


and it talks to me in tiptoes and it sings to me inside

by missveils (Missveils)



Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fade Dreams, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, POV Second Person, Poetic, lyrical, lyrical second person, poetic second person, stanzas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: There are four lessons Dáire Lavellan learned about the Dread Wolf from his Keeper.None of them turned out to be true.(written in poetic second person, not on reader POV)
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Male Lavellan, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Solas
Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694902
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	and it talks to me in tiptoes and it sings to me inside

There are lessons about the Dread Wolf you have heard since you were a child: 

i. “The Dread Wolf always lies.”

Yet in all the stories you were told by the Keeper, there were no lies spoken. The arrow would fell the beast. The lover would see the lady if the king’s youngest daughter died. These were all truths. Even if they were not pretty.

Yet a wolf does not lie, because it approaches you with his teeth bared, as a warrior approaches you with an unsheathed sword in his fist. 

Yet he says: “Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

————

ii. “The Dread Wolf hunts us in our dreams, filling them with twisted thoughts and nightmares.”

Yet when you slept in the aravel, your dreams filled with monsters and humans with sharp smiles and sharp knives, it was always a wolf that chased them away. It was always a pack of wolves standing beside you, sheltering you from the danger.

And as childhood faded away, you always wondered if these were dreams or memories.

Yet when you slept in ancient ruins, they would tell you stories of the past and you would always wake up with a new story in your lips. Stories that you didn’t know before. 

And as time went on, you would always wonder who whispered the stories in your ear. 

Yet when you sleep within the walls of Skyhold, your dreams are filled with golden sunrise and a soft voice and kisses over your eyelids. 

And as nights pass, you wish for these dreams to last forever.

————

iii. “The Dread Wolf must always look away from our camps so that he will never watch our sleep.”

Yet when you met the First from another clan, he told a different story: “He looks away to ward off evil spirits and demons, lethallin. At least, that’s what our Keeper has always said.”

Yet when your Keeper asks you about the times you have been found sleeping under one of the statues of Fen’Harel, you say to her: “There are no bad dreams when I sleep under its shadow.”

Yet, as you set your camp, alone in the woods, you place the small Fen’Harel idol looking at you. And you whisper to it: “I don’t care about demons, as long as you come to me.”

————

iv. “We don’t call upon the Dread Wolf, as he does not always listen. And if he does, he will only bring misfortune to us.”

Yet when the human hunters closed upon you and your friends, as your friend bled from the arrow in his side, as you struggled to open the trap biting on your leg, after whimpering your prayers to all the gods for help, you shouted: 

“Dread Wolf take you!” 

And the fire razed the clearing in a ring around you and your friend. Reached the trees. Reached the hunters. Reached their skin and their bones. And only went out when you heard the elven scouts call your names. 

Yet when you recovered but your friend’s fever did not recede, as you held his hand, as he cried that he did not want to die, after asking all gods to save him, he lifted his eyes to the tree canopy. 

And he asked Fen’Harel for help. 

And he closed his eyes and exhaled a last ragged breath, finally resting peacefully. 

Yet when you lay with the grass pricking at your back, with the stars glinting above you, with Solas’ fingers tangled in your hair, with your hands grasping his shoulders, with his name on your lips and yours on his, with his teeth grazing over your throat, you pleaded: 

“Please…”

**Author's Note:**

> (this is as naughty as i'm ever gonna get lads, just two sentences)
> 
> Dáire Lavellan belongs to @littlegumshoe (at Tumblr)


End file.
